


You've got to take a little dirt to keep what you love

by StrictlyNoFrills



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Detective AU, F/M, Minor Character Deaths, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22842229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrictlyNoFrills/pseuds/StrictlyNoFrills
Summary: Bilbo caught her man, but something about the case didn't feel right.Which would be fine. She could fix that. Somehow.And then a young, handsome, hotshot assistant D.A. walked into her department.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Bofur, Bilbo Baggins/Fíli, Fem!Bilbo/Fili
Comments: 23
Kudos: 77





	You've got to take a little dirt to keep what you love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ISeeFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeFire/gifts).



> So, this was the prompt ISeeFire gave me: Fili/Bilba, Bilba is a cop taking down a suspect and Fili is a cute lawyer who tries to help but sort of only gets in the way but Bilba thinks it's really adorable and MEET CUTE FOR EVERYONE. 
> 
> I didn't wind up following it directly, dear, but I hope I at least managed to follow the spirit of the prompt? 
> 
> The title is taken from Tonic's _If You Could Only See_ , because I was seriously at a loss when I was trying to come up with a name for this one after I finished writing it, and that was the song I was listening to at the time.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bilbo caught sight of a flash of gold rising over the top of the old, faded, rusted car she crouched behind, and her hand shot out and pressed down upon soft, thick curls as she hissed, "Get down, idiot!" from between clenched teeth. "Do you even have a gun?"

"Yes, of course I've got a gun," the young hotshot assistant D.A. told her, shooting her an amused look.

She told herself firmly that those dimples and those intensely green-blue eyes, combined with that ironically quirked eyebrow had zero effect on her heartrate.

Her nostrils flared. How was it fair for her to be able to talk her way out of some of the worst scrapes imaginable but yet be utterly incapable of lying to herself? It wasn't. It wasn't fair at all.

And how dare this man be so handsome, and so charming? How dare he insist upon bringing her cups of the fancy kinds of coffee her fellow officers would never let her live it down if they ever discovered how much she lived for them? And it simply wasn't right that he possessed such keen instincts and an even sharper sense of logic, both of which had led them here, to the parking lot of this rundown motel, pinned down and trying to avoid getting shot by the men who were really behind the Pony Lane murders.

Daring to peek up from behind the car with much more caution than her companion, Bilbo noted the positions of Bert, Tom, and William Trollshaw, and then she crouched all the way back down, her knees kissing the asphalt. Keeping the barrel of her gun pointed carefully at the ground slightly to the right of her body, Bilbo reached out with her left hand and snagged hold of Fili's dark blue tie.

When his surpised eyes flew to hers, she told him, "If you die on me, not only will I be buried for the rest of my days in paperwork, I will probably also be fired for letting the mayor's nephew get killed on my watch, and I will be very, _very_ disappointed in you." She let go of his tie, smoothed it back into place, and then squeezed his hand tightly. "Stay here, and stay down. And if anyone but me comes anywhere near you, you shoot. Got it?"

"Got it," he said with a firm nod, pulling a pistol out from the waistband of his dark grey slacks and flicking off the safety with a practiced motion that Bilbo found reassuring. Perhaps he knew how to use that thing after all.

She swallowed roughly and then darted close enough to press a kiss to his forehead. "Stay down," she said again, and then she popped up, aiming for Bert, whose eyes widened in a way that would have been comical if he didn't have a bullet and blood sprouting from between his eyebrows.

Some days, she really hated her job.

* * *

Squinting in the fluorescent lighting of the precinct, Bilbo pushed her gold-toned wire-framed glasses back up the bridge of her nose, scanning through the case file for the Pony Lane murders for what felt like the hundredth time since they came across her desk a few months back. 

"You're not still obsessing over that case, are you?” Bofur asked. “You caught your guy, and any day now, the D.A.'s office will charge Gollum with murder in the first. Count this as a win and let it go."

Bilbo sat back in her desk chair and shook her head. "I can't. Something about the whole thing just doesn't add up. Sméagol Gollum is a murderer, sure. But he's never killed a drug mule before, let alone two."

It had felt like a feather in her cap at first, bringing in a killer who had evaded her department for well over a decade, but the more time that passed, the more Bilbo was convinced that he was not the one responsible for killing Myrtle Foaley and Minty Colt. He was mentally ill and had been known to kill other violent criminals, which Bilbo suspected was one of the reasons the department had not been particularly concerned with bringing him in when they first managed to tie him to a string of cases sixteen years ago, though the more bodies dropped in his wake, the more seriously they took his case.

"You're right," a slightly raspy, young, masculine voice said behind Bilbo. She swiveled her desk chair around and prepared to chide whoever it was for sneaking up on a detective while she was on duty, and therefore armed, and had to close her mouth lest the choking sound building up in her throat in response to the young man before her be loosed. 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Bilbo asked after staring for what was most likely an inappropriate length of time.

Stepping closer and holding out his hand, the young man smiled and said, “Sorry, terrible manners on my part. I’m Fili Durin. I work down at the D.A.’s office.”

Before Bilbo could choose between fainting or arresting him for public indecency because those dimples of his were absolutely _obscene_ , her brain snagged at the sound of his last name.

Durin. As in _Thorin_ _Durin_ , the mayor of Erebor. She raised her hand to clasp his automatically, shaking it once as she wondered why fate hated her. First, she brought in an offender the homicide division of the EPD had been trying to bring in for longer than she’d had her driver’s license, only for her to realize that in fact he was not the one behind the murder of two young drug mules, and so would probably escape justice once again, and now a relative of the mayor had wandered into her department and listened to her picking apart her own case. And that young relative of the mayor worked for the District Attorney and was distressingly attractive.

“Detective Baggins,” she replied woodenly.

His grin widened and little creases appeared at the corners of his eyes, making Bilbo want to groan, because hang it all, they were _cute_. “I know. I saw your name in the files your department sent over.”

Of course, he had. “How can I help you, Mr. Durin?”

“Actually, I was sort of hoping I could help you, Detective. The D.A. wants to go forward with this case – election season is coming up, and as I’m sure you know, getting Gollum convicted for these murders would be a huge boon to Ironfoot’s campaign. But I asked him to hold off for a little while longer, give me some time to make sure the evidence was airtight.”

“But it wasn’t,” Bilbo said, trying not to feel too sorry for herself. The criminal justice system had no room for her fragile ego.

Durin gazed at her compassionately as he shook his curly head, the lowest tendrils of his hair just brushing the tops of his collar with the gentle motion. “I’m sorry, but no. Anyway, I thought perhaps you and I might work together to find out what really happened… and also to see if there’s some way we can keep Gollum from slipping through our fingers again.”

Bilbo eyed him for a moment and then glanced over at Bofur, who had been unusually silent throughout this exchange. She raised her eyebrows at him questioningly, and Bofur gave her an encouraging nod. With a sigh, she turned back to Durin and said, “If I agree to this, we need to get one thing straight right now: you are never going out into the field with me. The last thing I need after botching this case is to get a relative of the mayor hurt – or worse.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” he replied, his smile dimming for a moment. “I do actually realize that I’m an attorney, not a detective.”

“Well, then. Welcome aboard, Mr. Durin.”

He held up a hand. “Please,” he said, flashing pearly white teeth, “call me Fili.”

_Ah_ , she thought, recognizing that tone. It was the one she had found herself using whenever her father’s colleagues at the university back in Shire had met her. The one that said, _I am_ not _my family. I’m just me_.

“Fili,” she agreed. “You may call me Detective Baggins.” It didn’t matter how gorgeous he was. This was not a date. It was business.

His lips twitched, and Bilbo had a strong suspicion that he was laughing at her. “Yes, Detective.”

* * *

Bilbo watched as William Trollshaw, the only one of the Trollshaw brothers who she had managed to subdue without using lethal force several months ago, was led away from the courtroom with his hands cuffed behind his back, feeling at peace with the outcome of the trial, even though it meant that they currently had no case against Gollum, as all the evidence against him was circumstantial.

She had brought Gollum in once. She could do it again. And the real guilty party had been convicted by a jury of his peers. Unless the D.A.’s office had not handled the case with the proper care and attention to detail that was due, which Bilbo sincerely doubted, given that she knew which of the D.A.’s assistants had worked the case, William Trollshaw would spend the next several years trying, without success, to appeal his case whilst kept safely behind bars, and then he would stay there for the rest of his days.

She heard someone coming towards her and turned to watch as Fili drew closer. When he stood in front of her seat, he held out a hand which she took happily, though they both knew full-well that she was more than capable of standing up on her own.

“We did it,” he said, grinning down at her.

“ _You_ did it.”

“Yes, well, it wouldn’t have been possible if you hadn’t agreed to let me work with you.”

Bilbo shook her head. “I think even if I hadn’t, you still would have wound up here.”

Dipping his own head, Fili chuckled and asked, “Will you just accept the compliment for once?”

“No, I can’t, I’m sorry. I’m fundamentally incapable.”

Fili rolled his eyes and then asked, “Then will you at least allow me to take you out for a cup of coffee? Since I’m out of reasons to bring it to you at the precinct?”

Her heart started picking up speed in her chest, and she tried to shove down the hope growing there. “You mean as a thank you?”

“No. I mean as a date. Is that alright with you?”

The smile that bloomed across her lips was slow and full, like a languorous stretch after waking from a long, restful night. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”


End file.
